


leave one wolf alive, and the sheep are never safe

by rooftoplights



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dance of the Dragons 2.0, Dark Daenerys, F/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 18:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12588452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rooftoplights/pseuds/rooftoplights
Summary: "Tell me, Daenerys Targaryen, if you have ever loved?"She wants to say yes, wants to scream yes, but she knows in her heart that she has never loved anyone as much as herself, her land, her nation.





	leave one wolf alive, and the sheep are never safe

The dragons keep her safe. 

The people keep her on guard. 

They do not like her, the townsfolk. They do not like her, or her dragons or her army of castrated men all willing to die for a cause they do not believe in. 

But they like him. They like his humor, his nature, his queen. They forget the tragedy of the winter rose and the dragon prince for a miracle, a miracle that leaves him loved and her abhorred. 

They remember the terror of fire, the gasp for air amidst the smoke. They remember the way people burned, how their flesh would melt and curl under the crimson flames. 

They remember the mad king dead, at the hands of a golden kingslayer. They remember that it was only because of a foolish, love-stricken young girl and a crown prince with a mind crowded with dreams that they were saved. Saved from her father, _his grandfather_.

She likes to think she is not so feebleminded as to delude herself into thinking they will ever accept her. 

They are both foreign invaders, she and him. But one has dragons and the other love. 

_____

Tyrion is appalled at her plan. He’s been appalled for many moons now, so she simply waves him off. The others remain silent.  
They always do. 

She trades Viserion for a man with ever changing features. She should feel guilty, but she only feels remorse at not offering sooner.

She gives the man ten days. It is short, but she is leering on the edge of losing the throne of glory that she has sacrificed everything for. 

She delays her return to King’s Landing, sending ravens or messengers to Aegon with proposals of peace instead. The replies come sporadically, shrouded often with vague, indirect answers. 

They are both waiting. Little does he know, she has already made the first move.  
_____

The news comes quickly. The anguished cries of the people do not go unheard. The crashing of metal and chaos do not go unseen. 

She has gotten what she wanted. Who knew it could be so easy?

_____

The throne’s points prick and spill blood, _her blood_ , but she remains impassive. She is queen of the seven kingdoms, the rightful ruler, the prince who was promised, the one come to avenge her father’s demise. 

She sits upon a kingdom of ashes, and she _savors_ it. It is hers now, all hers. Everything she has sacrificed and more, is at her disposal. 

The candles flicker for a moment before drowning in the darkness as she stares into her success, proud and unrelenting. 

The cold steel of a dagger pierces her throat and thin arms wrap around her head. She looks up, craning her neck to see cold, grey eyes. 

"Do you know who I am?"

Yes, she pleads internally. Yes. She breathes the word _no_ , against her better judgement. 

"I am Arya of House Stark, the Queen in the North, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the wife of the _true_ King of Westeros. I am here to take back what you have stolen from me. Tell me, Daenerys Targaryen, if you have ever loved?"

She wants to say yes, wants to scream yes. but she knows in her heart that she has never loved anyone as much as herself, her land, her nation. 

Arya bites out a laugh, cruel and near hysterical. She supposes they are both a bit gone. 

"I have. I loved a man as honorable as a man could be, I loved a woman as dutiful as they come, I loved a girl with big dreams and a big heart, I loved a boy too young to be marching to his death, too brave to know the truth of war, I loved a child more wise than I could ever dream of being, I loved a baby too good for this world, I loved a bastard worth more than a thousand princes."

She hears a choked sob.

"I loved a blue haired king. One who showed me that it didn’t matter how I did my hair, how I chose to dress, what I wanted to do. I loved someone as lost as I was in this realm of conformity. He let me fight, he let me dance, he let me feel like _me_ again. He didn’t ask for much in return, just a queen. A queen didn’t need to be a lady, she didn’t need to wear a gown, she didn’t need to do needlework in order to gain love, he said. A queen just needed to listen, to love, to stand up for the ones who could not stand up for themselves. He made the people love us, _love me_. You know that, I presume?"

She nods slowly, fearfully.

"So you killed him. You could not beat the love of the people, so you shattered their hopes instead. Now the realm collapses before you, a field of dust. And I have come to add to that dust. Hiring a servant of the Many Faced God to murder the king of someone who learned the ways of the House of Black and White is not particularly wise, _kinslayer_."

She sucks in a breath and hears that laugh again. That tortured, broken laugh. She can hear the pain, can almost feel the tears.

"Do not mess with wolves, dragon queen. They have seen the destruction of lions and they will not hesitate to see the crumbling of dragons. I have trapped myself in the dungeons of the Red Keep to learn all the ways to kill you, but I have always found this to be the most satisfying. Now, you know… _leave one wolf alive, and the sheep are never safe._ Farewell, Daenerys Targaryen."

The steel on her throat and the sword in her torso, cutting through the bone are the last things she feels before joining her band of darkness. 

They find her on the iron throne at dawn, blood pooling from her gown and a cloud of ashes in her lap. 

A woman, with dark hair and pale skin, a thin needle-like sword in the grasp of her small fingers plunged deep inside her throat is found beside her. 

The wolf and the dragon. It seems there was never a sadder story.

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily inspired by the theory that Aegon and Daenerys will have a Dance of the Dragons 2.0 in the upcoming two books where Daenerys will murder Aegon and descend into madness. The mention of Daenerys being the Queen of Ashes was also drawn from Varys's quote about Littlefinger being King of the Ashes if that chance ever came. Please R/R.


End file.
